


Words and Thoughts Both Lie

by Tabi



Category: Kiss x Kiss: Seirei Gakuen
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-12
Updated: 2006-04-12
Packaged: 2017-10-21 15:08:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/226564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tabi/pseuds/Tabi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shin, being the songwriter that he is, thinks about what words - and the lack of - can actually mean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Words and Thoughts Both Lie

For a relationship which had little to no definition by their current point in time, it seemed that it would be almost a plus that with no clear classification so too would there be no straightforward expectation.

Words held too much meaning. Meaning heightened expectation. Akihiro was leant on all fours above him and Shin supposed he was expected to look him in the eye but he didn't want to. He wasn't really sure why he didn't want to. He couldn't be bothered? Doing that _would_ mean moving his neck and having to focus in the reduced light and that seemed too much bother. He could just lie there and let Akihiro do what he would - that was how things always seemed to work out. That had been how things had started, at least. Akihiro always took just what he wanted, and Shin never felt he had much drive for resisting. He didn't _not_ like it, he supposed. However, the point still stood that Akihiro was at that moment far more interested than he was, but he could hide that. Hiding behind a mask of constant apathy meant that nobody would really be able to discern true disinterest when it occurred. To Shin, it seemed as if Akihiro had never really been too concerned with honestly trying to _read_ him. Their relationship, whatever it was, seemed founded on a base of miscommunication.

So Shin's thoughts often wandered. Some part of him almost wished that he could find it in himself to care, but other parts were giving signals of their own under Akihiro's touches and he supposed that that showed enough interest for Akihiro to continue on. It wasn't that it didn't feel good, it felt _alright_ , it was _enough_ , but...

Sometimes, Shin hated words. Especially when he was trying to write songs, he found. Sometimes they came naturally, those words. Lines sprung to mind and it seemed all he could do to commit them to paper before they were gone, their continuation constantly rising in his mind. Those times when he wouldn't even think about what he was writing, just that he _was_ , and he would look over those lyrics and keep them for later in the hope that they would still hold that spark of wonder once he came to seriously consider his next concerts.

Those nights at his desk when the inspiration ran thin were the worst. When there was but one word in the language that would be perfect and yet escaped him, when something that had seemed wonderful at the time revealed only mediocrity with the morning light... he sometimes wished he had the ferocity to lash out. To slam his fist against the desk and break his pencils against the surface, to rip up those lyrics and scrunch them to a tight ball, the mental image of the collected pile of rejected lyrics seeming almost amusing in his mind. Yet he couldn't quite bring himself to do that, to be so callous. His desk drawers held pages of lyrics unused, concepts unexplored, and they were all based on words. _Everything_ was. Sometimes he thought that he thought about it too deeply. Where would mankind be without language? He'd be out of a job, for one thing. Perhaps that was some way in which words came in useful.

Akihiro was making it perfectly plain that he didn't think that words were necessary. He seemed to be taking his time, this time. Shin stared up at the ceiling as he felt the pressure against the mattress of Akihiro knelt at the end of the bed, felt warm hands strong against his calf and the underside of his foot as Akihiro pressed his tongue to his ankle. He closed his eyes in something that could have been an approximation of pleasure. It was expected. When Shin half-opened one eye, he could make out Akihiro glaring at him and hungrily so and this _did_ cause a blush, though when he opened his eyes fully, he didn't return the stare. The ceiling was neutral, safer.

Shin could hear the licking sounds Akihiro kept making, could feel a wet pressure moving slowly up his leg... he wasn't going to stop, was he? He'd carry on to the places he always went, do the things he always did in some mix or variation. He wouldn't stop. Shin didn't expect him to. Didn't really _want_ him to.

Words were still irritating, though. Ones like ' _relationship_ ', ' _boyfriend_ '... even ones with more casual implication like ' _lover_ ' still held enough to annoy Shin. Words were too loaded with meaning, held too much alongside them. A relationship implied emotion, having a boyfriend implied an agreement, being a lover implied some degree of sexual attraction. Maybe even love, depending on the context. Contexts, situations, implications... everything had a word and everything could be described. This didn't mean that it could be described _well_. Words were always a poor substitute for experience but given how much fanmail he received with glowing praise on how realistic his lyrics could be, he supposed he was getting _something_ right. Sometimes. Perhaps.

Akihiro was being teasing. He'd let Shin's leg go now, was leant up between his legs and was licking the indent of Shin's navel. It wasn't really _like_ Akihiro to take things this slowly, though perhaps he'd just never noticed. Perhaps this was just the mood he was in. Shin knew he would never actually _ask_ Akihiro's intentions, if any really existed. They didn't need reasons. That was their usual justification.

If he thought of things in terms of a relationship, Shin would almost laugh at the stupid things he thought. Images of he and Akihiro _having_ a relationship, being all happy and open and loving and that didn't seem to fit them at all. Smiles and kisses and holding hands behind the fountain... no, behind the fountain was for other things and none of those things were as innocent as just holding hands.

Even Shin couldn't resist a slight cry as he felt Akihiro's mouth close in over his cock - perhaps that too was expected but it couldn't be helped, either. Sex was still sex, stimulation was still stimulat _ing_ , and Akihiro wasn't inexperienced at this, they'd certainly practiced enough times. The way he bobbed his head still made Shin blush, just a little. Akihiro would look at him again and he'd look away... there wasn't really a reason for that either, it was just easier like that. It couldn't be something like not wanting Akihiro to see him blush, that would simply be stupid - having someone sucking on your dick but not wanting them to think you were embarrassed about it, that just seemed childish. This wasn't anything to get embarrassed about, was it? It was just something they always ended up doing. Shin liked to think sometimes that he didn't really care. It scared him somewhat when he realised that honestly? He really didn't.

Sex seemed to be another one of those things. Like words and social concepts, it seemed another one of those things that he felt was slightly overrated when he _really_ thought about it - not that he liked to spend much time thinking on what he and Akihiro did, but sometimes he couldn't help it. Like when Akihiro's movements were getting rougher and he couldn't help making those little sounds with each harsh movement, when Akihiro was licking lower and slower but harsher and deeper and Shin couldn't help but clench his hands into fists against the bedsheets and it was intense, somewhat. The apathy was gently nudged aside by _wanting_... and Akihiro could be so teasing when he wanted to be. He'd move slowly when Shin wanted it faster, be soft when he wanted it harder... he'd look up with a smirk and Shin would glower, knowing that Akihiro was far beyond his control.

Those feelings felt isolated, though. Shin could feel it, he knew he could - his lower body felt pleasantly numb and occasionally his breath would catch, his body felt hot and he couldn't stop those irrational trembles and yet, there was something distant about it. It felt good, Shin didn't deny that, yet... sometimes it really felt like it could be _better_. Things sometimes felt they were lacking. Rarely in the acts themselves - as time went on, Akihiro only seemed a keen student on the study of Shin's body, was slowly learning every spot that could be bit or licked or nibbled or sucked to cause a blush or a cry or _more_ , and it could be intense, it could be frighteningly intense, yet so rarely if ever was it actually _satisfying_.

This wasn't a relationship. There didn't need to be emotion. There could be sex, there could be lots of that, but... as time wore on, sometimes Shin would find himself wondering if that was _all_ there was.

Shin said that he didn't care to involve himself in complicated relationships, and he didn't. School was commitment enough without the demands Synchro made of his time, if anything else he simply didn't have the _time_ for a relationship, or so he felt. And that was before you considered anything else...

The worst time for it always seemed to be directly afterward. Akihiro would be slumped over him, usually with closed eyes, seeming only able to concentrate on his breathing. Sometimes he'd wake up, sometimes that'd be him gone for the night. Sometimes Shin would find himself tired and fall asleep. Other times he'd be staring at the ceiling again, exhausted and somewhat sated but awake and skittish. It was the little things that annoyed then - the places that ached from Akihiro's rough ministrations, the moves that had seemed sexy at the time that would ache and mature into bruises that would _hopefully_ be hidden under shirts and makeup... Akihiro could be heavy when he wanted to be and getting to sleep underneath his dead weight was sometimes impossible. Various places felt annoyingly sweaty, other places sticky in ways Shin simply didn't like to think of afterward. When he _did_ dare think about it it all seemed rather disgusting and in that vapid kind of afterglow, he couldn't help but sometimes wonder precisely _why_ he bothered...

It was easy enough to think ' _it's all Akihiro_ ', and to a degree he felt that true. It was always Akihiro making the moves, making the suggestions, always him sneaking up on Shin in school and catching him on the roof and sneaking him back to his house... from the amount of time he'd spent on his back like that, Shin wondered if he was growing more familiar with Akihiro's bedroom ceiling than his own. He certainly spent enough time looking in its general direction, though sometimes he wasn't really paying attention to _that_. The ceiling provided a nice backdrop to blurring sight, a white blank canvas with nothing to preoccupy or distract; Akihiro did that well enough by himself. Still, to blame it all on Akihiro... that was perhaps unfair. He couldn't exactly think so badly of Akihiro's actions when he himself was doing nothing to stop it. It never seemed like a matter of that, though; it always seemed to just _happen_. By the time it was happening Shin never particularly wanted to stop, though sometimes it seemed as if there was little point in carrying on.

It was harder to think of the situation in terms of _emotion_. Non-verbal communication seemed to be their forte and very little was actually _spoken_ between them. Shin didn't know if this helped or hindered. Indeed, it seemed easier than a normal relationship, yet so much seemed to be lacking. There was no commitment, very little attachment. Shin would look to other relationships and wonder on their merit. Was it better if you were in love? Was it nicer if you could talk to your partner, if there was some kind of agreement? For all that it seemed to be a bother, was there perhaps some merit in a mutual relationship? If a description was a matter of words then theirs seemed so terribly lacking. To believe the whispered recollections Shin had heard between the girls back at Seirei, to read some of the more colourful letters they sent him... it was all deep metaphor and eloquent language. The depth of a girl's emotion even on paper seemed frighteningly profound and the more he observed that, the more that he felt that he _didn't_.

This was no matter of beauty or song. It was fucking. It was reality. How many of those girls who admired him saw silly romantic dreams that Shin knew he would or could never fulfil? That Student Council didn't help anything, he felt. Openly worshipping the women of the school, getting down on one knee and calling them 'princess'... perhaps perpetuating a lie was fun for the liars but it would only be the girls that were hurt in the end. Those five were seen as princes and they seemed to revel in their role. That seemed awfully arrogant, but then to think of it, Shin supposed he had no place to speak. He was perhaps more famous than that Student Council and admired for a lot more than his mere existence - he knew he'd practically made himself into a target, but this simply couldn't be helped.

The members of the Student Council perpetuated lies? He was a hypocrite to pick up on _that_. What more were his songs than an imagined extension of what life could be like? The more of them he wrote, the more Shin felt himself coming to dislike love songs. Those girls would hear him sing of perfect feelings and romance that would last forever - sometimes he'd even broached this to Akihiro, though indirectly. Nothing lasted forever, especially not teenage love. That sea of fangirls at every concert, every one of them seemed unaware of the transient nature of their emotions. They would proclaim undying love one week and be on to their next suitor by the week following. There was no consistency. It seemed easier to just not bother.

Even the most intense encounter would end. Flushed skin would cool back to normal, scratches and bruises would develop and fade... as much as touch seemed some kind of physical proof of _existing_ , its effects always seemed so fleeting. However dark the night had been, morning would always bring a light that seemed far too piercing. The night before would rarely be mentioned. Sometimes Akihiro would make some kind of embarrassing wisecrack on something he could remember, sometimes Shin thought he was making those things up. Either way, he wouldn't react. The sex itself was separated, in its own little bubble outside of everyday life. It would happen, but so did school and homework and practise and concerts. For something that seemed so universally sought-after, it certainly seemed to end so terribly quickly.

To say that they rarely spoke, Akihiro could sometimes be disturbingly perceptive. Shin hated it. It would be enough if they could carry on without saying anything at all but then for the things that Akihiro _did_ say, Shin would find himself feeling rather thrown by them. Considering those things and wondering how Akihiro had managed to pick up on them before _he_ did.

Akihiro seemed to find the matter of those overly-enthusiastic fangirls amusing, just as much as Shin found it irritating. Sometimes Shin would find anonymous love letters posted through the gaps of his locker and he'd read them on the roof in full view of Akihiro. He didn't really care if Akihiro saw - perhaps this was disrespectful to the original writer, likely she'd despair at how her words would be openly ridiculed by the two of them, but... she didn't have to know. Shin didn't care and Akihiro found them all highly entertaining.

" _If they knew what you were really like, they wouldn't be writing stuff like that!_ "

"... _What's that supposed to mean?_ "

" _C'mon, like you don't know..._ "

At the time, Shin hadn't quite got what Akihiro had been implying. What he was really like? It was true that none of those girls writing the letters knew anything of him beyond the professional level, but...

The more he thought on it, the truer it seemed. The version of him that Akihiro saw was different to how anybody else saw him, and for as much as he felt he was hiding himself from Akihiro, the more he felt this effort was useless. Just because he didn't _say_ anything didn't mean that Akihiro wouldn't pick up on things - he was far more observant than he seemed and sometimes Shin felt quite winded by those offhanded comments. Still, it seemed true. If any of those fangirls knew of what things were like between he and Akihiro, would they still see him as such a shining and radiant figure? If that 'relationship' was anything to go by then perhaps he was better off giving it all a wide berth and letting the girls live with their dreams. They would end up eventually shattered anyway but Shin didn't feel like being the one particularly responsible.

Being so apathetic wasn't conductive to a relationship. Shin often wondered how different things might be if he felt he _were_ able to talk back to Akihiro - if he could find it in himself to try to stop Akihiro's behaviour, if he could ever say what he really thought... if _either_ of them could even _begin_ to approach that, it felt like it'd be a start. Perhaps if he were able to see more in the sexual act, perhaps it would have been better. If he could get really excited about Akihiro, maybe it'd be more satisfying. If he could speak his feelings and shed his irritation at the relationships around him, then perhaps he could view any of the girls of Seirei in higher estimation and see any of them as potential relationship candidates. If he could find it in himself to care for somebody like that, if he could find it in himself to care about _himself_ like that, then... then perhaps things could have improved.

Then he and Akihiro would wind end up fucking again and Shin would find himself considering the situation against the backdrop of Akihiro's ceiling once more.

Perhaps it _would_ be better if he cared. About himself? Someone else? Akihiro? However, he didn't.

He couldn't find it in himself to really care about that, either.


End file.
